


Feels Like Home

by estriel



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Coaches, Coming Out, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 11:19:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estriel/pseuds/estriel
Summary: Coaches Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernández meet at a Junior Grand Prix event to help their respective students succeed. It's not quite like competing directly, but close enough.Featuring: Fashionable outfits, future plans, and fluff.





	Feels Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I set this fic in Slovenia, aka my current place of residence - we do get a JGP event, after all. And yes, I know that it's unlikely for elite coaches like these to come to a Junior competition. Sorry not sorry. Neither am I sorry for the shameless fluffiness of this piece. Enjoy! :)

Yuzu has been looking forward to this. The thrill of big international competition is the same… and yet so very different, from the other side of the boards.

It had taken a few years of building and honing the talent that had rushed to Yuzu’s Sendai school when he had first opened it. Now the first few of his young skaters are ready, and Yuzu couldn’t be more excited to be back to the madhouse that is the Grand Prix circuit, even if it is just the Junior edition.  

At 13, Katsumi is one of the youngest on the roster, but Yuzu is confident. He’s not expecting podium placements just yet – has to curb his own competitive drive significantly for the sake of his skaters, in fact – but a top six finish is well within Katsumi’s grasp if he skates the way he knows how. Next season… next season they’ll polish up the triple axel, add a difficult entry, as well as put the currently still capricious quad toe in the layout. Perhaps even the sal, if they’re lucky, and then Ka will be in medal contention, Yuzu is sure of that.

While he watches Katsumi run through his stroking exercises before he launches into his first official practice for real, Yuzu sneaks a glance at Javi, who is consulting with young Manuel in rapid-fire Spanish just a few steps away. Javi looks good in his black jeans and a figure-hugging black turtleneck under a leather jacket that is definitely not warm enough for Ljubljana’s abysmally cold ice rink. Oh the joys of Junior competition – freezing arenas, sparse audiences, and slightly obscure destinations that Yuzu secretly delights in because he can walk the streets of these towns and cities without being recognized.

Yuzu smiles a little as he lets his eyes sweep over Javi one more time. The turtleneck in particular gives him satisfaction. It may look like a fashion choice – and it does cling to Javi’s chest in lovely ways, indeed – but Yuzu knows it’s there for a practical reason. It wouldn’t do to show up at a Junior Grand Prix event with a neck covered in love-bites, after all. Not that Yuzu feels bad about putting them there, last night. He hadn’t seen Javi since July, after all, so getting a little carried away with their long-anticipated reunion is perfectly understandable.

With so many pre-competition minutiae to take care of – handing in music for both Katsumi and Saori, attending starting order draws, familiarizing himself with the maze that is the backstage area, not to mention keeping a pair of high-energy, nervous teenagers in check – Javi and him hadn’t had a lot of time to themselves, only arriving to their hotel late at night.

It had been rushed, albeit no less satisfying for it. Javi had pressed Yuzu up against the door the moment it had closed behind them, claiming his mouth in a breath-stealing kiss. His hands had moved swiftly to untug the warm layers of Yuzu’s clothes so he could latch onto one of Yuzu’s nipples, making Yuzu pant with his series of lick-bite-licks. Yuzu had retaliated in kind as they stumbled into bed, so eager to taste all of Javi once again – his neck, his skin, the drop of salty pre-come Yuzu had lapped up like a man dying of thirst. It had been too long… and so worth the wait, worth even the bit of discomfort he feels with every step today, a result of him begging Javi to  _ please _ fuck him before he was fully ready.

He shakes his head to re-focus, clearing his mind of all but the competition ahead. He fixes his eyes on Katsumi on the ice, watching with intent and cataloguing all the little corrections and adjustments they will need to make. Yuzu has come a long way and he’s ready for battle, even if all he can do now is stand by the boards and be a rock for Katsumi to lean against as he enters his own fight.

*

“How did you teach him to move like that?” Yuzu asks when Javi re-joins him at one of the little tables, carrying a coffee for himself and a green tea for Yuzu.

They’re waiting for Katsumi and Manuel to finish their cool down, taking refuge from the cold of the rink inside the busy bar overlooking the arena.

Yuzu realizes how stupid a question that was even before Javi lets out an amused snort. “Who taught  _ you  _ to move like that, Yuzu?” Javi asks and takes a sip of his coffee. He grimaces. Yuzu looks down at his tea, dubious. The joys of Junior competition, he reminds himself, and takes a sip. It’s bitter and scorching hot.

He finds a smile for Javi despite the terrible tea. “You’re right, but – he’s so young.”

“You were better when you were that young,” counters Javi, eyes alight. It feels good,  _ right _ , this gentle ease at which they have arrived now. Yuzu sometimes misses the intensity of being rivals by day, lovers by night – it had been exciting, like always playing with fire. It had also been emotionally taxing, so much so that he’s still not sure how their younger selves had managed to deal with that on top of the pressure of elite competition. 

He ducks his head, barely able to contain his smile and worried that people will see the exuberant love written all over his face.  They’ve made it work, despite the complications, the bitterness leading up to and immediately after the PyeongChang Olympics, despite the initial struggle of learning to navigate a long-distance relationship. At the end of the day, Javi’s presence in his life is like carrying a bright ball of sunlight inside his chest at all times, even if sometimes clouds come and go. 

“Thank you,” he says. He’s gotten better at accepting compliments. Being a little less harsh with himself still feels like an indulgence, but Yuzu thinks he can allow himself that much. “Manuel could be great,” he tells Javi, and watches as a proud smile spreads across Javi’s face.

“I was hoping you could take him for a bit, actually,” Javi tells him. “For your summer school, next year?”

“And make him even better?” Yuzu tilts his head, pretend-pensive. “It’s a conflict of interest,” he teases.

Javi laughs. It’s the best sound in the world, deep and rich and straight out of his belly. Yuzu can never get enough of it, and he wishes he could just whisk Javi away right now, and lay his head against Javi’s chest to hear the rumble of laughter up close.

“You mean like I agreed to let you come to Toronto so you could get even better and then beat my ass?”

Yuzu snickers. “Okay. I will think about it. If you promise that in the future you will take one of mine.”

“Gladly,” Javi nods and extends a hand for Yuzu to shake, eyes dancing as he holds Yuzu’s gaze. “God knows you can’t teach a proper quad sal for the life of you.”

“Ja-vi!” Yuzu gives Javi a glare, but they both know it’s just good-natured ribbing, a running joke between them. The quad sal had haunted Yuzu ever since Javi had retired and left Toronto, and for a long time, Yuzu could not bear to even discuss the jump for fear of jinxing it. After his own retirement, though, he found it easier to laugh along with Javi’s jokes – terrible as they were – about his secret salchow powers and how Yuzu clearly needed regular bodily contact with Javi for the quad sal to rub off on him.

Amused, Yuzu lowers his voice, and glances around to make sure nobody is within easy earshot before he says: “I hope you won’t teach anyone the way you taught me.” 

Javi grins and opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted as Manuel comes up to their table, flushed from his cool-down run, Katsumi on his heels.

Javi addresses his student in Spanish, but Yuzu turns to Katsumi, speaking in English.

“All done?”

“Hai, Hanyu-sensei,” the boy says, bobbing his head.

“Did you do your stretches, too?”

When Katsumi launches into a recount of his stretching in Japanese, Yuzu raises a hand to stop him. “English, please. We talked about this.”

He knows many of his students and their parents find his requirement of taking extra English lessons if they want to train at his school odd. But Yuzu is not naïve or arrogant enough to think that all of them will stay under his tutelage forever – in fact, many of them may go train abroad, temporarily or permanently. And Yuzu remembers how that had been for him, moving to Toronto and having to deal not only with the adjustment of a new training environment, but also with the language barrier. Yuzu is almost certain that had it not been for Javi’s gentle support and friendship in that first year, he would have given up and returned to Japan before the season was even over. He doesn’t want his skaters to have to deal with the kind of isolation and frustration he had gone through.

Katsumi halts, eyes Javi and Manuel, and – cheeks growing pink – repeats what Yuzu suspects is a much-abbreviated version in English: “I do stretching. My back feel good, I have no pain anymore.”

Yuzu nods encouragingly, and hands Katsumi his jacket and his backpack. “Ready to go, then?”

Katsumi nods and with one last glance at Manuel and a polite little bow to Javi, heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around,” Javi tells him as Yuzu gets up to leave, a small, all-too-private smile on his lips.

*

“Do you miss Toronto?” Javi asks as he threads his fingers through Yuzu’s hair later that night. They’re naked in bed, enjoying the view through the tall glass windows as they rest in the afterglow of their love-making, and Yuzu feels lethargic and lazy.

He thinks about the question for a moment. He misses being in the same place as Javi on a daily basis, that much he knows for sure. But Toronto as such, as a separate entity?

He thinks back to how familiar it had begun to feel after a few years. He remembers just walking through the park or the mall at the peak of his fame and being blissfully anonymous, just another face in the crowd. Yuzu certainly misses that when he is in Japan. Things have calmed down a little bit post-retirement, but Yuzu still can’t stroll around in most places without a security detail trailing his every step. Sometimes, Japan feels like a cage – a comfortable, familiar one, but a cage nonetheless.

He recalls riding the subway in Toronto with Javi seated next to him. It was the off-season, which meant things were less heated between them in the absence of competition. It was the end of a pleasant summer evening and they were on their way home from a rare outing for ice cream at that parlor that serves the best strawberry sorbet Yuzu has ever tasted. Javi had hooked his pinkie finger around Yuzu’s on the seat between them. It made Yuzu feel antsy because they were completely unshielded, in public.  But a moment had passed and no one even spared them a look, not even when Javi entwined their fingers for real, holding Yuzu’s hand boldly as the subway sped through the tunnel. As long as they were outside the Cricket Club, it had been easy, in Toronto, to be just Yuzu and Javi, two people in love, instead of the pair of closely-observed world class figure skaters they became on the ice.

“I do, I think,” Yuzu responds eventually. He cuddles up closer to Javi and rests his head on his chest. He inhales Javi’s familiar scent and closes his eyes. He’s going to make every moment count here, because it will be a long wait until they get to spend some time together again.

Javi hums and is silent for a while. Yuzu counts Javi’s heartbeats, steady and calm. Then Javi says: “Maybe one day we could both work there.”

“With Brian?” Yuzu asks. It doesn’t quite sit right with him. He loves Brian, and Tracy, and everyone else at Cricket. But he’s used to doing things his own way now.

“No. Our own thing. Together,” Javi muses. “Things are running pretty smoothly in Madrid. I wouldn’t want to move my students – “ Javi stops there and Yuzu wonders if he’s remembering his time with Morozov, uprooting his life not once, but twice to work with a coach who never even paid him due attention. “But I could do both, split my time. Canada has such good conditions.”

And Yuzu can see it. A joint project, joining forces and bringing the best of both their expertise together. It would be a dream. Not only because he would get a chance to get used to waking up with Javi day after day, though seeing Javi’s scrunched-up face first thing in the morning would certainly be a benefit. The school would be a dream, too, international in a way that Sendai or Madrid could never be, what with both Spain and Japan being too culture-specific to draw a wide array of international students. Excitement stirs inside him just thinking about the possibilities.

“Maybe in a few years,” he lets on with a cautious smile. He gives Javi’s hand a firm squeeze, only to receive one back immediately. They are both stubborn, hard-working and – though it sometimes is a burden – famous enough to get the funding and support they’d need. They  _ could _ make it happen.

“I’d like that,” Javi mumbles and presses a kiss into Yuzu’s hair. “Sleep now?”

Yuzu just nods. When he drifts off to sleep, it’s with his head full of images of the Javier Fernández/Yuzuru Hanyu Skating School of Toronto.

*

Katsumi is anxious. Yuzu can tell and even though he talks him through it, doing his best to prepare his student, the pressure of his first big international outing gets to him in the end. He pops his triple axel into a double, and his first combination spin is shaky.

Yuzu stands there by the boards, watching silently as Katsumi sets up for his lutz. He’s wildly off-axis and he wobbles precariously upon touch-down.

“Hold it, hold it, hold it,” Yuzu finds himself muttering under his breath, hands clenched into fists where he’s standing by the boards. This is worse than being out on the ice, he realizes, suddenly drenched in sweat under his carefully layered outfit of a crisp white shirt, blue cashmere sweater, and cream-colored coat. There’s nothing he can do, not until Katsumi finishes his performance.

Katsumi holds the lutz and finishes the rest of his program without further hiccups. Yuzu is proud, even though the popped axel sets them back in a way that makes Yuzu uncomfortable. The damage is not irreparable, of course, but the competition is quite strong and Yuzu worries what this will do to Katsumi’s nerves going into the free. Javi’s boy leads the board at the moment, but Yuzu doesn’t expect it to stay that way, not with three skaters left to go.

He hugs Katsumi tightly before they head off backstage.  “It’s okay, you fought hard,” Yuzu assures him once again before depositing him at the locker rooms. “You did me proud,” he adds, because Katsumi has the same destructive penchant for self-blame that Yuzu is intimately acquainted with. “I am proud of you, Katsumi-kun. Tomorrow we fight again.”

*

“ _ Trust your training _ .”

Yuzu catches the phrase, so familiar and yet so different in Spanish, coming from Javi’s mouth. He has been taking language lessons – a surprise for Javi for their tenth anniversary, coming up in spring – and while his pronunciation is dreadful, he has a decent comprehension by this point.

He watches as Manuel takes off for another jumping pass in the six minute warm-up. This time, he sticks his quad sal perfectly, apparently emboldened by the magic words that have carried Yuzu through many a difficult performance in the past.

He smiles as Javi claps beside him, nodding his head in approval at his student’s success.

Yuzu bites his lip, thinking. He waves at Katsumi to call him over to the boards.

 

“How are you feeling, Katsumi-kun?” he asks in Japanese.

Katsumi shrugs. “Okay,” he tells Yuzu and sips on his water. “Strong.” Yuzu nods. The pep-talk and image training from last night, and this morning, have clearly found purchase in his student’s mind.

“Do you want to try the quad toe?” Yuzu asks him then, still not sure whether playing this wild card will pay off. But Ka is trailing behind… and try as he might to deny it, Yuzu wants him to do not only well, but  _ great _ .

Katsumi doesn’t hesitate, which gives Yuzu some peace of mind. He simply nods and skates off dutifully, running through the alternative opening that they have been practicing.

He lands the first one, falls on the second attempt. There is no time for a third. Just like in practice, it’s a fifty-fifty chance.

When warm-up is over and Katsumi comes to him before it’s his turn to open the final flight of skaters, Yuzu asks again. “Plan B?”

Katsumi takes a breath and glances at Javi’s skater who is just shuffling off the ice, putting his skate-guards on. Then he nods, steely-eyed. “Hai, Hanyu-sensei.”

Yuzu nods, brimming with pride. Katsumi is a very different skater than Yuzu had been, mostly immune to the balletic grace that Yuzu prefers to drill into most of his other students. He’s a power skater, all strong legs, fierce charm and an entertainer spirit. It had been Ka’s drive to outperform and take risks, his willingness to rise up to a challenge that had convinced Yuzu to take him on and keep him even though their skating styles do not exactly mesh.

He holds Katsumi’s hands for a moment as they wait for Ka’s name to be called, pouring every bit of his own resolve and strength into the boy. Katsumi seams to soak it up, squaring his shoulders as he skates out.

It’s both a blessing and a curse that Katsumi gets to skate first in his group in the free.

A blessing because he gets it out of the way – and what a marvelous skate it is! He lands the quad toe, just as Yuzu had hoped. As he launches into his step sequence, Yuzu is clapping along. Riverdance is not what he would have chosen for Katsumi to skate to for his international Junior debut, but he has always been a firm believer in giving his skaters a reasonable amount of freedom in their artistic choices. He remembers how frustrated he had been with David Wilson’s unwillingness to let him do the pieces he had wanted, and he has decided early on that as long as it is appropriate and challenging enough, he would just roll with it. Besides, Jason has done a fantastic job with the choreography. It’s a difficult one, but Katsumi flies through the steps with confidence, now that his trickiest jumping passes are behind him. 

It is a curse to skate first, of course, because now Katsumi has to suffer through five more performances, wondering if – when – someone will surpass his score. Yuzu had always detested that, preferring to skate towards the end of the group, even if it meant extra effort in keeping his muscles warm and ready.

On a selfish note, Yuzu secretly enjoys tonight’s skating order. Javi’s Manuel goes last, which means that by the time it’s his time to skate, Yuzu is comfortably settled in the tribunes and ready to enjoy the show. The music – a Spanish selection that makes Yuzu smirk, because Javi is so predictable sometimes – doesn’t suit the boy as much as the sweeping Einaudi from his short program, but he performs it well enough. Besides, it’s not strictly the on-ice show Yuzu has come to watch. Throughout most of the program, Yuzu lets his eyes stray to Javi, warmer today in a cozy black sweater and a mid-calf black coat, glasses on his nose.

While Yuzu likes to keep his composure while watching his skaters, Javi is his polar opposite. He dances through the music along with Manuel, slapping his hands on the boards with a chant of “Vamos, vamos!” as the boy picks up speed for his quad sal-double toe opening. He buries his nose in his hands, clasped together as if in prayer, when Manuel takes a fall on his second quad sal – a bold move to put two quads in his free, because Manuel looks slender to Yuzu’s eyes and his thighs seem rather shaky under him after the second attempt. Yuzu watches Javi’s nervous pacing, his enthusiastic clapping, and the way his hands clutch the boards as he leans over to cheer his skater on during the dramatic step sequence. He watches Javi exhale in relief when the music ends and Manuel nearly collapses onto the ice, visibly exhausted.

It’s beautiful, watching Javi’s passion unfold from afar. It’s not quite like competing against Javi directly had been, the adrenaline is much lower, but Yuzu still has to take a few steadying breaths to compose himself, thankful for the way his coat covers the unruly bulge in his tight jeans.

*

It’s not exactly a banquet, but when a vast majority of skaters, coaches and chaperones meet for dinner at the hotel restaurant, it almost feels that way. It’s a little different than what he remembers from official banquets, too, but then again, this is a Junior competition and most of the skaters here are just kids.

Yuzu is knackered, though – after getting Saori through the ladies free skating earlier that evening, he had barely had time for a quick shower and a change of clothes before he was expected to meet everyone at the nearby restaurant. The cold that had seeped into him during long hours at the rink is making his bones ache, and all he wants to do is head back to the hotel and curl up under the covers with Javi’s warm shape next to him.

 

He’s here, though, and he obligingly takes pictures with all the youngsters who ask for them. Sometimes, Yuzu wishes he could be no different from the other coaches, relatively unknown and uninteresting except perhaps for his knowledge on how to turn young, roughly hewn talent into sparkling diamonds on the ice.

But the magic that is Yuzuru Hanyu, living legend, seems not to have faded yet, even though things _ have  _ calmed down now that his last competition lies a few years in the past. At least he’s comfortable, no longer feeling the need to conform to a strict dress code of full suit and tie at these kinds of events. The chunky grey cardigan that Yuzu had stolen from Javi’s wardrobe and thrown over his white t-shirt is slightly oversized on his frame, but it keeps him wonderfully warm, and the lingering scent of Javi’s rich cologne makes him smile every time he catches a whiff of it.

At the other side of the restaurant, Javi is getting similar treatment, Yuzu notes with satisfaction that turns into amusement when he notices how the older ones amongst the Junior girls giggle and whisper together while stealing glances at Javi. As they should be, Yuzu thinks fondly, resting his gaze on Javi’s familiar features – there are now a few more crow-feet around his eyes as he smiles, but Javi’s warm eyes still twinkle in the same way that had made Yuzu fall madly in love all these years ago, and his smile is just as charming.

Sipping his wine, Yuzu spots Katsumi making conversation with Javi’s skater in halting English, and he smiles. He knew he was right about making them all learn to speak the foreign language.

He stays long enough to be polite, but makes his escape sooner than many of the present Juniors. He checks on Katsumi and Saori before he goes, then leaves them under their mothers’ supervision for the night.

He’s waiting for the elevator in the hotel lobby when there’s a warm presence next to him, all of a sudden. Javi briefly presses his shoulder against Yuzu’s, and Yuzu smiles. Of course Javi had noticed his somewhat premature exit, and followed. It’s almost like the good old days.

“After you,” Javi tells him with a smile in his voice when the elevator doors open in front of them. He touches a hand to the small of Yuzu’s back, a welcome, steadying presence that makes Yuzu feel like he’s twenty again and standing on top of the world with Javi by his side.

Yuzu presses the button for the tenth floor. Technically, Javi’s room is a floor below his, but they have not even used that one since their arrival – it’s been booked just for the sake of keeping up appearances. Yuzu wonders once again if it’s time to finally end the charade, come out publicly and be done with it.

Javi steps in after him, leaning against the opposite wall of the elevator, chin out and hands tucked behind his back. The doors close with a mechanic whish, leaving them alone, finally, after the long day and the sweeping ups and downs of their students’ free skates. Javi’s eyes find his and instead of the soft warmth Yuzu usually finds there, Javi’s gaze is all scorching heat that makes Yuzu’s insides feel like molten gold, weariness momentarily forgotten. It’s been years, a thousand times they’ve devoured each other in bed, and Yuzu would have expected his craving for Javi to begin to ebb at some point – but it never has.

Up and up, the elevator goes, gnawing at Yuzu’s patience as he stands there, biting his lip and basking in the unabashed desire that’s written all over Javi’s face.

When they finally arrive to their floor and their room, Yuzu’s hands are shaking as he fishes his keycard out of his pocket. The moment they extricate themselves from their coats, Javi is licking into his mouth, hands finding skin under Yuzu’s clothes and popping the button on Yuzu’s jeans to brush fingertips along the smooth plane of Yuzu’s abdomen. Yuzu sighs, closing his eyes, and leans back against the wall behind him for support.  

“I love it when you wear my clothes,” Javi tells him in-between kisses, smiling against Yuzu’s lips.

 

“Mhm,” Yuzu nods. “Will steal more.”

Javi chuckles and pushes the cardigan off of Yuzu’s shoulders, kissing the tender skin of Yuzu’s throat before he pulls Yuzu’s shirt over his head. He steps closer once again to continue his ministrations, but Yuzu pushes at his chest.

“Take yours off, too,” he instructs and nods at Javi’s white shirt. He then waits for Javi to unbutton it, because he knows that if the task fell to him, he’d lose patience and tear a button or two. Yuzu’s a master at self-control out on the ice, or in front of the press, but never around his partner.

“You beat me,” he says when Javi’s standing in front of him bare-chested. He runs his palms over Javi’s pecks, letting his nails graze Javi’s nipples.

Javi tilts his head, a coy smile on his lips. “Not really. It’s not the same.” Of course it isn’t, the frustration of Katsumi’s fourth against Manuel’s excited bronze is nothing in comparison to how losing to Javi had made Yuzu feel.

“I know. But still,” Yuzu muses and smoothes his hands down Javi’s sides, watching in satisfaction as goose bumps spring up on Javi’s flesh in their wake.

“It still turns you on, doesn’t it?” Javi smirks at him. “When I’m better than you.”  He threads a hand into Yuzu’s hair, pulling him closer, close enough to bring their foreheads together. Javi’s breath is hot on Yuzu’s lips and it’s still the same, a decade later: the  _ need _ to close the gap and tangle his tongue with Javi’s once again.

“Hai,” Yuzu gasps his admission when they break apart to breathe.

Yuzu knows what Javi is referring to, of course. Worlds in 2015, the first time Javi bested Yuzu when it mattered most. It had terrified Yuzu, cold fear and desperation over his loss mingling with the warm happiness he had felt for Javi’s victory. It had also made him  _ notice _ Javi in ways he had not noticed him before, making his focus fray a little every time Javi was around, making his head spin. It had thrilled and aroused him, knowing Javi  _ could  _ beat him,  _ had _ beaten him. It’s how they started, with mad, urgent making out in locker rooms after shared practices, with Yuzu’s heart in his throat as he thought of Javi’s perfect, threatening jumps – and Javi’s perfect mouth on his. The next year had been terrible, a game of dodging and crashing, both of them just as unable to stay apart as they were to stay together.

In the end, though, they had found their balance, and they’ve been keeping it ever since.

Yuzu allows Javi to free him of the rest of his clothes and lead him to their bed. Javi sits Yuzu down on the edge of it and nudges his thighs apart. Then he drops to his knees, pinning Yuzu’s hips down with his hands.

Yuzu’s head lolls back, eyes falling shut, when Javi takes him into his mouth in one long swallow. He loses himself in the sensation, toes curling into the carpet as Javi swirls his tongue in  _ exactly  _ the way Yuzu loves. It takes an embarrassingly short while for Yuzu to come undone, whimpering as he comes down Javi’s throat. Javi swallows, throat working around him, and Yuzu lets himself collapse back against the mattress, arm thrown over his eyes.

He could do this every day, every damn day for the rest of his life, and not get tired of the way Javi can pick him apart with just a few skilled strokes of his hand, a few swipes of his tongue.

*

The next morning is a bleary, rainy affair, and Yuzu ditches his plans of taking his skaters out for a stroll in favor of reviewing their performances in the comfort of the hotel.

They’re reviewing the video of Katsumi’s skate in the modest seating area in the corner of Katsumi’s room, when Katsumi looks up from the tablet he’s holding and sighs loudly.  

“Hanyu-sensei?” he pipes up.

“Yes, Ka-kun?” Yuzu looks up. Katsumi is looking at him with fearful eyes and it is so unlike him that Yuzu is instantly concerned. “What’s wrong?” Ka had seemed happy enough with his fourth-place finish and Yuzu made sure to let him know that he, too, was more than satisfied with their debut.

“Nothing is wrong,” Katsumi stutters, wringing his hands in his lap. “It’s just – I just. The boy, Manuel?”

Yuzu quirks an eyebrow, surprised. “Yes?” He thinks back to their interaction at last night’s dinner. It had seemed fine to him.  

“He’s…” Katsumi trails of, chewing on his lip. He blushes furiously. “I think I like boys,” he whispers then, head bowed and his fists clenching in his lap. “I’m so scared, Hanyu-sensei.”

Yuzu is glad that Ka is not looking at him, because he gapes. He had not expected this. Then he collects himself and lifts a hand to place it on Katsumi’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he says gently.  “Katsumi, look at me.” The boy’s eyes are swimming when he does. “Come here,” Yuzu pulls him into a hug and lets him sob against his shoulder.

“I needed to tell someone, but I didn’t know who to tell,” Katsumi mumbles and Yuzu aches, because he knows this, he knows the confusing tangle of emotions that had threatened to choke him when he first admitted to himself that he might be gay. Yuzu had been significantly older than Katsumi is now – at eighteen, he had been a little late to the party after years of caring only about skating, earphones, and nothing else. Crushing on Javi had been an eye-opener. Having Brian to confess to had been a blessing.

“It’s okay, you’re fine, I’m always here for you if you need to talk,” he tells Katsumi and releases him from the hug to meet his eye. The boy pulls away a little, swiping the tears from his face.

“I couldn’t tell my mom because she’d – she wouldn’t be happy,” Katsumi sighs, face crumbling. Yuzu opens his mouth to tell him that of course his mom would still love him, but Katsumi is not done. “So I thought – you – I mean, the girls said – you and Fernández-san...”

Yuzu nearly chokes.

He is aware, of course, that half of the skating community probably knows about his and Javi’s relationship, even the ones neither one of them has told directly. He knows that their skating federations have come to a tacit decision that what two of their biggest stars and spokespeople get up to in their private life is none of their concern. He has even come to accept the fact that their fans know, seem to have wildly guessed at where things were headed even before Yuzu and Javi had actually become anything but friends.

He never suspected, though, that the  _ children _ would be perceptive enough to realize that he and Javi were an item, or that they would have the cheek to gossip about their coaches behind their backs.

He really should have known. He wants to ask just where Katsumi got his information from, but bites back the questions his mind is swarming with. This is not about him.

“It’s all good, Katsumi. And it’s perfectly okay to like boys – or whomever you like,” he says instead, hoping that his voice sounds calm and reassuring. “There’s nothing wrong with it. Your parents love you and I’m sure they will agree with me on this, too.”

“Don’t tell them, please,” Katsumi squeaks, his eyes wide when he looks up at Yuzu.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” Yuzu tells him. He had begged Brian for the exact same thing, terrified of what his family would think. They had been surprised, taken aback, when Yuzu finally did come out to them a couple of years after spilling to Brian. But they had been there for him, loving him just the same.

Katsumi visibly relaxes at Yuzu’s words.

“But Katsumi-kun – I would like you to focus on your skating for now. You’re very – “  _ young _ , Yuzu almost says, but stops himself. He has always hated being patronized like that. “ – talented,” he chooses to say instead. “You’re very talented and I would not want you to get distracted. You can go far in skating and I’ll be there to support you along the way, but you have to stay focused.”

Katsumi starts nodding. “Hai, Hanyu-sensei. I want to go to the Olympics.”

Yuzu smiles and ruffles his hair. In Katsumi’s place, he himself would have said that he wants to  _ win _ the Olympics, of course. But for all his competitiveness, Yuzu finds Katsumi’s self-confidence when it comes to dreaming big and setting goals is still a little below Yuzu’s standards. It’s fine. They can work on that. Yuzu is an expert at dreaming big, after all.

Katsumi’s sigh draws him out of his musings. This one sounds a little different, though, lighter.

 

“He has such pretty eyes, Manuel.” Katsumi immediately covers his mouth, eyes darting to Yuzu’s. Yuzu suspects the words were not supposed to be spoken out loud.

Yuzu feels warm amusement bubble up through his chest and he laughs, patting Katsumi’s shoulder. “Then you’ll be delighted to learn that he’s probably coming to our summer school next year.”

Katsumi’s eyes widen comically. “Really?”

“Really,” Yuzu confirms. He has made up his mind about Javi’s request, of course. It’s not like he could ever say no to Javi, anyway.

When Katsumi beams at him, blushing brightly at the same time, Yuzu lets him despite his earlier talk about focus and distraction. After all, he remembers how it had felt to be a teenager, falling for another pair of Spanish eyes.

*

“Did you bring your skates?” Javi asks him while they’re getting ready the next morning. Javi had just smiled enigmatically when Yuzu had asked what the plan was, so Yuzu still has no idea what Javi has cooked up.

It’s Tuesday and the Junior Grand Prix event is well and truly over. Katsumi, Saori, and their mothers left for the airport this morning, but Yuzu has two more days, sandwiched into his busy schedule, before he heads back to Japan. Two days just for Javi and himself to enjoy each other’s company before they’re reduced once again to Skype dates and pining. Though Yuzu is not complaining – now that their skaters have reached this level, they will be sharing international assignments more frequently. Still, the event where their paths will intersect next – the Canadian installment of the Junior Grand Prix – is nearly a month away.

 

“Of course I did,” Yuzu responds, brushing his hair in front of the bathroom mirror. He hardly ever travels without his skates, never sure when the craving for ice will hit and force him to lace them up.

“Good. Take them with you today.”

Later, Javi drives them out of Ljubljana in the car he had rented, following a route on the navigation system. It takes them onto a highway and through the countryside, passing hills aflame with colorful foliage, mountains with the first dusting of snow in the distance.

While Javi drives, Yuzu recounts the story of Katsumi’s predicament.

“He’s crushing on Manuel?” Javi laughs, his nose scrunched up in amusement. “That’s adorable. Manuel wouldn’t shut up about him yesterday. It was all ‘Katsumi this, Katsumi that, do you think Mr Hanyu is making him work very hard? He has problems with his back, you know’,” Javi’s imitation of an over-excited teenage boy is so good Yuzu bursts out laughing.

“It will pass,” he says eventually.

“Or not.” Javi flashes him a quick smile, eyes straying from the road ahead for a brief moment. He lifts his hand from the shift gear to caress Yuzu’s cheek.

 

“Or not,” Yuzu repeats and presses a kiss into Javi’s palm.

They lapse into comfortable silence, and Yuzu looks out of the window, enjoying the scenery of sweeping hills and small villages that dot the landscape.

“We need to do this. Come out, I mean. _ I _ need to do this,” he says eventually, thinking back to Katsumi’s distress.

Javi looks at him with raised eyebrows. “Are you sure?” he asks.  

Yuzu nods. He has been thinking about this. Everyone who matters knows. Everyone else probably at least suspects. The ISU might not be ready for such big news, but they never will be. Yuzu thinks it’s about time someone pushed them a little, for once, forcing the old men and women who still mostly run the show to adapt and provide a more inclusive environment for their athletes. Japan might not be ready, either, and a part of Yuzu is worried what a coming out might do to his school in Sendai, but he’s willing to risk it. This is too important and Yuzuru Hanyu is not one to shy away from risk.  

“I don’t want gay kids to suffer any more than they have to,” he tells Javi. “And if I can contribute to making their lives easier, even in a small way, then it is my duty to do so.”  

Javi nods, slowing down the car as he heads for a highway exit. “I’ll be there with you, of course.”

“You don’t have to – “ Yuzu starts, the instinct to protect Javi from his own dramas automatic at this point.

“Yuzu,” Javi says firmly and places a palm on his thigh. “I love you. We’re in this together.” Then Javi smiles. “I’ve been ready for a long while, you know.”

“You have?” Yuzu asks, though really, he shouldn’t need to. Javi is always more relaxed about everything, always has been. It’s not just the fact that Spain is significantly more gay-friendly than Japan, or the fact that Javi’s level of fame is nowhere near Yuzu’s own, at least outside of the small bubble that is the figure skating world. It’s just how Javi is, taking everything in stride and being a pillar of support for Yuzu at all times. Yuzu sighs fondly. “I love you,” he whispers and covers Javi’s hand with his own where it is resting on his leg.

*

The lake glitters in the autumn sun, a sparkling blue gem almost too beautiful to be real. There’s an island with a quaint church in the middle of the water, and Yuzu wonders if the lake freezes over in the winter, if it’s possible to skate all the way to the island then.

 

Yuzu never really did this during his career – sightseeing – but Javi’s curiosity about the various places and cultures of the world has won him over in the past few years. Taxing as it might be, coaching others does not require the razor-sharp focus that Yuzu had always used as an excuse for shutting himself inside hotel rooms instead of going out to explore during his competitive days. He finds that he likes it, playing tourist, taking short little vacations, soaking up the new impressions, flavors and sights.

Javi walks him around the lake, holding his hand the entire time, and even convinces Yuzu to share the famed local cake. It’s layers of thick cream and vanilla pudding ensconced between two wafer-thin strips of leafy dough – entirely too heavy for Yuzu’s usual tastes, but he has to admit that the way it melts on his tongue when Javi feeds him a few mouthfuls is sinfully good.

“Why did we bring our skates?” Yuzu inquires when they’re trekking up the small slope back to where they had left the car.

“You didn’t notice?” Javi asks.

Yuzu shakes his head. All he had noticed was the way the sun had highlighted the sparse amber tones in Javi’s dark curls, and how right Javi’s hand had felt around his own, keeping his fingers warm in the crisp October air.

They arrive back to the car and Javi opens the trunk to pull out their gear bags.

“There,” he points over Yuzu’s shoulder. Yuzu turns and smacks his face with his palm. The ice rink sits right next to the parking lot.

Javi laughs at him all the way to the entrance. He holds the swinging door open for Yuzu and checks his watch. “Right on time,” he says and goes to talk to the man at the cash desk, pulling out his wallet to pay admission for what is, apparently, a public session.

The rink is much colder than what Yuzu is used to, but the scent is the same familiar mixture of ice and rubber flooring. Excitement flutters in his belly as he does a few quick squats and stretches by the boards – nowhere near adequate warm-up, but he figures they can warm up on the ice, together. It’s that part that makes Yuzu’s heart skip a beat – skating with Javi by his side, just like they used to.

He disposes of his coat in favor of a warm fleece zip-up, but keeps the rest of his street-clothes. The jeans he’s wearing have a decent amount of stretch and it’s not like he’s planning on doing anything fancy.

The ice is blissfully empty except for them and a little girl in a protective helmet clinging to the boards under the watchful gaze of her father. Clearly, not many people opt to spend their time inside an ice-cold rink on a sunny fall afternoon. Yuzu cannot relate.

The satisfaction of his blades biting into the ice – and good ice, too – is familiar, but multiplied a thousand fold by the simple fact of Javi gliding out behind him.

They fall into rhythm easily, running through stroking patterns and exercises they both know better than the backs of their own hands. Yuzu would remember them anywhere, even in the middle of the night, but they are even fresher in his mind because he uses them with his own students. Brian and Tracy would be proud, he imagines as he completes a lap of the rocker-counter-loop clusters Tracy would have them do in warm-up when she was feeling particularly sadistic. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Javi, the glide of his blades through the turns just as smooth and easy as Yuzu remembers.

_ I love you _ , Yuzu mouths in Javi’s direction, grinning over his shoulder. Javi beams back at him. It is a simple joy, skating with Javi, but one Yuzu now realizes he has missed so fundamentally in his own daily practice that he’s not sure how he could possibly do without it in the future.

They do a few spins and Javi cackles gleefully when Yuzu belly-splats on a butterfly entry to a camel, his blade catching in a long deep groove left behind in the ice despite the resurfacing.

“Not used to hockey rinks,” Yuzu pouts as he wipes ice off of his front.

“Not used to doing the hard stuff anymore, eh?” Javi teases and speeds away as Yuzu chases after him.

“I can still do the hard stuff,” Yuzu scoffs when he catches Javi, nose up in the air. “Watch me.”

It could be called reckless, but the triple axel is still a jump Yuzu can do pretty much in his sleep, so he picks up speed, swishes through the back counter and then he’s flying. The thud and glide of a perfect landing is immensely satisfying and he looks back at Javi to blow him a playful kiss.

“Wow,” comes a small voice from somewhere behind him and Yuzu turns, smiling at the little girl he had completely forgotten about. She claps her hands excitedly, then loses balance and grabs the boards for support once again.

“You think you’re cool?” Javi comes to a stop next to him, deliberately showering him with ice shavings as he does so. “I’ll show you cool, Yuzuru Hanyu.”

With that, Javi is off, pushing into the ice with powerful crossovers. Yuzu holds his breath as Javi sets up, the trademark double three-turn as swift and steady as ever, and launches himself into a salchow. One, two, three, four revolutions – but Javi is a tad too slow opening up for the landing. The little girl behind Yuzu gasps loudly as Javi falls down on his bum. He bounces right back up and his laugh fills the rink and Yuzu’s heart along with it.

Yuzu skates over to Javi and helps him pat the wet snow off of his pants, laughing with him.

“Looks like quad sal powers have left you,” Yuzu teases.

Javi shrugs. “Maybe.”

Yuzu lowers his voice. “Do you need me to put them back in you?”

Javi spins around, skating backwards in front of him. “Ah, they’ll come back,” he waves his hand dismissively. “But you can put something else in me,” he adds with a suggestive waggle of eyebrows.

Yuzu snorts and covers his face with his hands, laughing and happy and so madly in love with this man, even after so many years.  

When he looks up, Javi’s eyes are on his, warm and bright, all the love Yuzu feels reflected back at him.

 

“I want to kiss you,” he mumbles, still gliding after Javi.

And when Javi extends his hands, Yuzu takes them, just like he had done so many times in shows and practices and galas. Except this time, when Javi pulls him close, Yuzu finally goes all the way, melting against Javi not to hug, but to press their cold faces together and brush his lips against Javi’s.

It feels the same – and yet so very fresh and different, to be kissing Javi here, out in the open, where anyone could see. It feels like a beginning.

*

_ (Four years later _ )

The afternoon is a gloomy one, rain pattering down against the window from a steely-grey sky. Yuzu doesn’t love November in Toronto, but he’ll be off and away soon again, flying out to France for Katsumi’s second Grand Prix assignment, so he cherishes every opportunity to be here, in Canada, in the comfortable apartment he and Javi call their own these days. He’s sipping tea and stroking Luna’s soft black fur while he pores over the score-sheet from Ka’s latest competition once again. They’ve done all the necessary adjustments, fixed all the details Katsumi had lost points on at Skate Canada.  They should be good, good enough for at least the podium, if not for gold. 

Luna leaps off his lap suddenly, running for the door and meowing. She always knows when Javi is coming – and as much as she likes Yuzu, she still loves Javi best.

Sure enough, the door creaks open, and the lilting Spanish that spills from Javi’s mouth as he greets the cat makes Yuzu smile. He sets down his tea and gets up from the couch to go collect his own greeting.

“Hi,” Javi kisses him when he enters the open space living area. He smells like ice rink and the cologne he has been using for as long as Yuzu can remember, notes of rich amber and moss delicious on his skin. But there’s something different, too. Yuzu inhales, pulling Javi close for a moment. Something sweet and sugary.

“You’re as nosy as Luna,” Javi laughs, slipping out from Yuzu’s embrace. He walks through the living space into the open plan kitchen, then sets a small brown paper bag on top of the kitchen island.

Yuzu follows him. “What did you get me,” he asks, interest piqued.

“Bold of you to assume I got this for  _ you _ ,” Javi shoots back, reaching into the bag. He pulls out a small white container with condensation pearling on its surface. When Yuzu reaches for it, Javi ducks, hiding it safely behind his back. “Patience!”

Yuzu pouts and hops up to sit on the kitchen island, socked feet dangling.

“You’re mean,” he informs Javi.

Javi shrugs and opens one of the drawers to fish out a teaspoon.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs and Yuzu obeys.

Javi steps into the V of his legs, a warmth Yuzu can sense even with his eyes closed.

“Open your mouth.”

Yuzu does as he is told, letting his lips fall open in anticipation. He gasps at the shock of cold when Javi slides the teaspoon into his mouth.

“Mmmm,” it’s an involuntary sound, but the burst of tangy strawberry against his tongue is just too good. He licks the frozen treat from the spoon and swallows, delighting in the flavor. “It’s from my favorite place.” It’s not a question – Yuzu would recognize this particular strawberry sorbet anywhere.

“Yes,” Javi says simply. A second later, the hot tip of a tongue sweeps at the corner of Yuzu’s lip, surprising him further. His eyes fly open. “You had something there,” Javi smirks, pointing at Yuzu’s mouth.  

 

“I’m sure,” Yuzu chuckles. “Give me more,” he demands and opens his mouth for another spoonful.

Javi spoons out another bit of ice cream and offers it to him, only to follow it up with another kiss, this one open-mouthed, Javi’s tongue probing just inside Yuzu’s lip.

“I could eat this forever,” Yuzu comments, and wraps his arms around Javi’s neck, pulling him closer.

“Might not be good for those triple axels of yours,” Javi teases even as he shoves one more serving of sorbet into Yuzu’s mouth.

 

“You’d love me even without triple axels,” Yuzu retorts.

“I would,” Javi admits and sets the tub of ice cream down on the counter next to Yuzu. Then his eyes spark up in mischief. “I have other things you could eat forever, though. Very low calories.” He grins, eyebrows twitching.

Yuzu snorts with laughter. “You’re terrible, Javier Fernández!”

“And you’re leaving again in two days. I intend to make good use of that time. I was going to ask you out for dinner, but since we are already at dessert…”

There’s nothing Yuzu can say to that. He slides off the kitchen island and into Javi’s arms, into Javi’s kiss, into the vortex of love and passion and happiness that he finds there, day after day.

It had been a long way, a struggle at times. A tempest that rocked the skating world when Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernández very publicly announced their relationship, those four years ago.

 

But it was all so worth it. This, being here in Toronto with Javi, never hiding anymore, raising the next generation of skating stars in their joint school… This feels like home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please don't hesitate to drop me a comment to share your thoughts on this piece of writing. I love to hear what you think! <3


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